


Three-Sided Polygon

by ladydragon76



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, character: blurr, character: drift, character: wing, genre: angst, genre: drama, smut: sticky, verse: idw, warning: canon- what canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2000304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> It’s not really a love triangle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three-Sided Polygon

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Wing/Drift/Blurr  
>  **Warnings:** Sticky  
>  **Notes:** Short string of angsty scenelets cuz I wanted to. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. I have no idea what’s going on here, but the muse would not stop pounding me over the head with it.

Drift moaned, body tense and trembling as Blurr clenched tight and cried out in short, sharp sobs before collapsing over him. Release sucked the tension from Drift’s body, and he sank back into the berth, the occasional aftershock making him shiver.

“Slag me,” Blurr groaned against Drift’s shoulder as their respiration slowed.

Drift let him lie there another minute or two, then rolled to the side. Blurr’s hands caught at his shoulder’s, optics brightening.

“You can stay.”

“I know,” Drift said, and he did. Blurr always said he could stay.

Blurr tightened his grip. “Stay. Drift, just stay.”

He hated that tone and what it did to his spark. “Not tonight. Recharge better alone.” Drift pulled away from the clinging hands, turning his helm as he stood and crossed to the door so he wouldn’t have to see the pout. Blurr never let up, and Drift didn’t want to be a possession.

The trip to his own quarters was short, and Drift entered the dark room as silently as he could.

“You could have stayed with Blurr,” Wing said, sitting up from where he’d been lying on Drift’s berth. “You’re not going to hurt my feelings if you let yourself care about him.”

“No. It’s not like that.” Drift sank down onto his berth, pushing close to Wing. “It’s just physical. Don’t want to encourage him.”

A soft smile tilted up the corners of Wing’s optics. “I don’t think Blurr needs encouragement. He already likes you.”

Drift shook his helm, but didn’t argue further. It was for release, and he went to Blurr because the mech was, for all his arrogance, actually a really good ‘face when he wasn’t trying to own Drift.

“I love you, Drift,” Wing whispered, but the soft velvet of recharge pulled Drift under before he could respond.

~ | ~

Drift grunted as his back impacted the wall, Blurr’s hot frame pushing right up against him. He smelled of ozone and heated metal, oil and grease, the char from the fire the battle had started, and when his mouth crushed over Drift’s, he tasted like life.

Blurr pushed his knee between Drift’s thighs, and that was enough. Drift pulled up one knee to hook over the Racer’s hip, his panel snapping open. He tipped his helm, opening more to the voracious kiss, his hands clutching and fingers scratching at the smooth plating of Blurr’s hips, urging him on. Not that Blurr needed urging. He sank his spike deep in a single hard thrust, then pulled back, throwing them into a brutal, desperate rhythm. Drift’s back scraped the wall, the Great Sword causing a _scree_ of sound as the pommel gouged the metal bulkhead.

“Oh! Oh frag! Drift!”

Drift ground down against Blurr, valve squeezing as he felt the hot gush of transfluid fill him. His hips rocked, a soft, needy sound escaping, but Blurr kept moving.

“Yeah,” Blurr purred in a low tone, teeth on Drift’s helm finial. “Come on, sweet. Come on. Want it. Give it to me.”

Drift growled, neck arching back as he strained after the overload. Blurr pushed deep, hips winding in tight half-circles, his teeth closing over Drift’s throat in a soft bite.

“Ah!” Drift stifled a second shout, and bit out a curse, body shaking as ecstasy burst bright and hard across his circuits. Blurr purred against his audial, still rolling his hips to carry Drift through his climax.

They eased to a stop, and Drift sighed as he lowered his leg and let his helm rest back against the wall. Blurr’s nuzzled in against his neck, little nibbling kisses trailed up to a finial, the Racer’s purring tickling. Lethargy was creeping in, and Drift had taken a few steps along with Blurr as he was pulled before his processors caught up with the movement. He blinked his optics open, frowning as the whispered words started to make sense.

“Lie with me. Want you on a berth. Slow. Love you until you can’t move.”

A flash of white caught Drift’s optic and he tensed, pushing back from Blurr. Wing shook his helm and waved a hand at Drift with a smile. Drift knew what Wing meant, but pushed Blurr’s hands off him. He didn’t want to stay the night with Blurr.

“Drift?” Blurr called, but Drift was already around the corner, hurrying down the corridor after the jet.

~ | ~

Wing was dogging Drift’s steps. “You’re hurting him, Drift. I know you don’t think so, but you are. He cares about you.”

Drift snorted. “No, he cares about an easy ‘face.”

“Drift!”

Drift sighed, turning back to face Wing. “You’re imagining things.”

“I disagree,” Wing said, tone severe. “You’re dismissing his feelings and desires despite the fact that you want to be closer to him.”

“No, I don’t,” Drift replied, growling. Primus, how many times were they going to cycle this same argument? “He’s spoiled and fragging arrogant as all slag. He’s stuck-up and shallow, and utterly useless beyond his valve, or if we need a message delivered in a hurry.” He whipped around the corner, and nearly slammed right into Blurr.

Their optics met and held for a moment, then without a word, Blurr spun on his heel and strode back the way he’d come.

Drift cursed, shrugging off Wing’s feather-light touch.

“You’re being far too cruel, Drift. This isn’t you.”

Oh, wasn’t it? Drift spun and punched the wall, then stomped back to the training room, unsurprised when Wing didn’t follow him.

~ | ~

Wing settled on his side next to where Blurr had thrown himself on his berth. The Racer was curled around his bolster, spark-wrenching sobs barely muffled.

“I’m so sorry, Blurr,” Wing said.

Blurr shook his helm, hiccupping, knees pulling up. It was painful to witness such anguish.

“I don’t understand!” Blurr cried, scrubbing at his face a moment before succumbing again.

Wing, unfortunately, did, but the words would be meaningless from him. It was something only Drift could explain, and Wing was more determined than ever to convince him to do so.

“Never did anything to him,” Blurr whimpered.

“It wasn’t you,” Wing murmured.

“S’not fair.”

Wing cycled his vents, aching right along with the inconsolable mech. “No. It’s not fair at all,” he agreed.

~ | ~

“You made him cry,” Wing said.

Drift heaved a sigh and sat down on his berth. It’d been hours, and this was pretty much the greeting he had been expecting with Wing’s return.

“Drift.” Wing’s voice was tired, and he slumped as he sat beside Drift. “He’s hurting. He wants you to like him. He _cares_ about you. No, let me finish,” he said as Drift opened his mouth. “I know, and yes, his ego _is_ stung because he’s used to mechs falling for him easily, but that’s _not_ all it is. I think part of why he likes you so much is that you don’t just throw yourself at him. And regardless, he doesn’t deserve such cruelty from you. If I thought you didn’t want him, I would leave this alone, but I know that you do, and I _know_ that you’re better than this. You should apologize to him.”

He hated that Wing was disappointed in him. Drift scrubbed at his face, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees, hands clutching his helm. “I don’t want to lose you.”

There was a smile in Wing’s voice. “Oh, Drift. You’re not going to lose me. Especially not by caring about someone else.” His hand settled gently on Drift’s shoulder, making the plating tingle in awareness. “Sparks are large and capable of expanding to fit in as many mechs as one needs to. They’re also far more resilient than many believe.”

Drift turned his helm, meeting the golden optics for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll talk to him.”

“Be honest.”

“I hadn’t planned on lying.”

Wing chuckled. “No, but I know you. No leaving out details. Help him understand.”

“I will. Promise.”

~ | ~

Drift entered the common room, glancing around, but other than Blurr at the table with Wing beside him, it was empty. Luckily. He glanced at Wing and received an encouraging smile.

“Blurr?”

Blurr flinched, optics brightening, then dulling almost immediately. Like he’d closed off something inside. He stood, drained the rest of his energon, and then tried to edge past Drift to the door.

“Wait,” Drift said, holding out a hand, but not touching Blurr. The Racer stopped, helm tilting slightly, but he wouldn’t meet Drift’s optics. “I’m sorry,” Drift said.

“You’re sorry.”

Fragging Pits, Drift had never heard Blurr’s voice that flat. He glanced at Wing, then back to Blurr. “I am. I don’t really believe all that slag I said.”

Blue optics lit in anger, and lifted to Drift’s face. “Then why say it?”

Drift shook his helm, then cycled his vents. His weight shifted from one foot to the other, then back.

“Forget it.”

“No, wait!” Drift reached out again, this time catching Blurr’s arm. “I’m sorry. I really am. I… suck slag at this, ok? I don’t know how to do this. The first… The only mech I ever loved was killed because of me. We’re Wreckers. It’s dangerous, and…”

Blurr snorted. “What do you plan to do then? Never care about anyone ever again? Why the slag not? Why _not_ accept and… revel in the good moments? Take what you can get while you can get it, and appreciate it then. You can’t live just waiting for a tomorrow that might not come. I mean, I sure can’t. Why would you even want to?”

Drift could see Wing nodding, and shut his optics for a moment. He’d promised. “Because it hurts so much once they’re gone,” he replied, having to strain to get his voice over a whisper.

“Yeah. And?” Blurr asked. “What the frag are we even fighting for if it’s all really that hopeless and bleak. I’m not going to live my life based on statistics, and I’m not putting my spark on hold until the end of this endless frelling war. It’s worth the risk to me.” Drift’s vents caught as Blurr leaned in a brushed a soft kiss over his cheek. “I’m just sorry it’s not for you,” he said, tone much softer.

Blurr stepped away, but Drift tightened his grip, and opened his optics. “I’m scared.”

“Part of the thrill,” Blurr replied, smirking a little.

Wing had moved. He was now sitting on the edge of the table closer to Drift and Blurr, and he made a ‘go on’ gesture with his hands.

Drift cycled his vents, then pulled Blurr in close, lips meeting in a slow, warm kiss. “Fine,” he said against Blurr’s mouth before pulling back to look him in the optics. “But if you die before me, I’m not going to forgive you.”

“You forgave me,” Wing said from beside Drift, his form beginning to fade.

Blurr purred, and reached up to brush moisture off Drift’s cheek. “Don’t cry. We’re Wreckers. We’ll just be sure we go together in some glorious and awesome, song-worthy way.” He wrapped his arms around Drift’s shoulders and held him tight.

Drift smiled back at Wing as he dissolved, then burrowed into Blurr’s neck.

“Come on.” Blurr nudged Drift. “I’m not even talking about bonding or being super serious. Let’s just enjoy each other while we can. Ok?” He went quite for a moment. “Hey, this is pretty.”

Drift felt a tap against the hilt of the Great Sword, and pulled back a little.

Blurr’s optics were locked over his shoulder. “Is there a reason it’s glowing now all the sudden? And how’d you get this anyway? I knew of a few Knights, and recognized the style when I saw this, but you really don’t seem the religious sort.” He flashed Drift a grin. “I bet there’s a great get-to-know-you story there.”

“Come on,” Drift said, tugging Blurr toward the door. “It belonged to a mech named Wing,” he began.

**Author's Note:**

> **([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) )**


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